


Fuck Me to the Beat

by mthrfkrgdhrwego (universalchampbalor)



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Clubbing, Genital Piercing, M/M, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Tongue Piercings, it's not mentinoed but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 21:22:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14173674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universalchampbalor/pseuds/mthrfkrgdhrwego
Summary: I'm tonyknees on Tumblr! Come bug me!





	Fuck Me to the Beat

The music isn’t doing much to help the pounding in Roman’s head. There’s a drink in front of him, all too weak, but he can’t find the energy to drag himself over to the bar to order another. He’s not here of his own decision- Dean can be blamed for that (Dean can always be blamed for it). 

Eventually, after two hours and another three drinks that get increasingly stronger, Dean manages to wrench Roman to his feet and onto the dancefloor. Roman’s stiff, has never been able to dance, no matter how hard he tries. To be fair, Dean isn’t any better, but he has the added benefit of not giving a shit if he looks stupid. There are far too many bodies in a far too small space, and every part of Roman’s mind is  _ miserable. _

Well, until a slim pair of hands slide around his waist.

The man that slides in front of Roman is barely shorter than he is, and he has a slight frame and broad shoulders, not unlike Dean. He has choppily cut brown hair and eyes so fucking blue that Roman can't breathe. His lips are  _ red _ , tugged in a lascivious grin across perfect white teeth.

He's wearing a black button up opened over most of his chest and jeans tighter than sin.  Roman realizes that the man is wearing heels, and something curls in his gut.

“Hey there, handsome. I'd ask if you come here often but it's pretty clear you don't.” The man leans in and presses his mouth to the curve of Roman's ear to be heard over the breakbeat blaring from the speakers. The man's voice is soft and drenched in a thick Irish accent that warms Roman's stomach more than his drink ever could.

Roman can't think of anything to respond with, but he doesn't have to because the man is beginning to dance.

_ Dance  _ is a bit of an overstatement. It's more like  _ grinding _ , low and filthy and enough to ruin Roman while barely touching him. Roman's hands settle on the man's hips because they have nowhere else to go, and the man's grin turns  _ dark _ in the best way possible.

“What's your name, beautiful?” The man pants against his ear, hips pressing deliciously against Roman's groin. Roman has to grit down a moan in order to choke out his own name. He manages to stutter out a raspy, “You?”

“Call me Finn.” The man breathes, fingers digging into Roman's shoulders. Roman nods, flexes his grip. Finn’s shirt has begun to ride up, reveal a sliver of pale flesh across his hips. His skin is warm, smooth, beneath Roman’s calloused palms.

Roman can’t help but slide the flat of his palm up Finn’s side, under his shirt. The Irishman groans, shivers, and rolls his hips against Roman’s. His head has dropped onto Roman’s shoulder, his breath hitting warm and wet against Roman’s pulse. Roman’s thoughts are running at a rate he can’t keep up with, and he feels like a stranger in his own mind, in his own body, as he catches little snippets.

_He’s gorgeous_ is followed by _why is he talking to me?_ _What the fuck do I do_ is superseded by _oh fuck that feels good._ Every part of his body is on fire and he doesn’t notice that he’s hard until he feels Finn’s lips tug into a grin against his sensitive skin and a hand settles over the bulge of his cock. 

“Someone’s excited.” Finn says, voice little more than a moan. Roman swallows thickly, tries to form an apology around his tongue. He stops when Finn grabs his hand and presses it to the front of his jeans, to the jut of his swollen cock. Finn licks his lips, the edge of his tongue rasping across Roman’s stubble. Roman’s breath hitches as Finn says, “Good thing you’re not the only one,” and gives him a look through hooded, lust blown eyes.

Roman’s tugging Finn to the bathroom before he can process anything else.

The bathrooms are better lit than the rest of the club, and in the mirror, Roman can see just how fucked he is. His pupils are blown wide and his neck is rubbed raw from Finn’s beard. His chest is rising hard and fast, his breath stilted and shallow. He’s so _ fucking hard  _ and it’s painfully apparent through the tight pants he’s wearing.

Finn waits as Roman locks the door to the bathroom. He’s settled against the counter, arms planted between the two sinks as he leans back. He’s unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, revealing a cut six-pack and gorgeous pecs. His hips are pressed forwards because of his position, showing off the hard line of his cock.

Roman doesn’t even get all the way over to Finn before he’s getting kissed.

It’s hard and hot and searing, everything Roman didn’t realize he needed but  _ holy fuck did he need it _ . He doesn’t have time to respond before Finn’s pulling back with an unreadable expression on his face. He’s got a hand on the hinge of Roman’s jaw, warm and there and grounding.

“Shit, I should have asked first. Is it okay if I kiss you?” Finn asks, voice quiet, low. He smooths his thumb across the curve of Roman’s mouth, pulling his lower lip down gently. Roman can practically feel his pupils blow wide, feels like he can see everything so much sharper. He nods, breath rushing out of his lungs in a quick rush.

Finn kisses him again, softer this time but no less passionate. It’s the slow drag of lips and teeth and Finn licks into Roman’s mouth so carefully that it sends shivers down his spine. Finn’s grip on Roman’s jaw is almost painful but it still sends heat curling in his gut. The kiss quickly picks up until it’s barely lips, instead biting and sharing breath.

Finn pulls away and Roman whines low in his throat. It’s a desperate sound, and if he wasn’t so turned on he can barely stand, he’d be bothered by it. As it stands, he can’t bring himself to give less of a shit. He can’t protest because before he can open his mouth to do so, Finn’s winking at him and sinking to his knees.

Roman’s vision blacks out for a moment as he stares down at Finn, looking back up at him with hooded eyes. The blue of his eyes is swallowed by his pupils, and Roman can’t stop looking at the red of his lips. Finn’s tongue slides out of his mouth, wets his lips, and it causes Roman’s throat to lock.

“Is this okay?” Finn asks, his hands coming up to Roman’s waistband. Roman nods so furiously he’s almost worried he’s gonna get whiplash. He can’t find it in him to care because Finn’s popping the button of his pants, dragging the zipper  _ down, down, down. _ Finn’s watching Roman’s expression with wide eyes, lips parted in gentle pants. 

Finn carefully peels Roman’s pants down his thighs a little, just enough to reveal his cock, leaving his underwear settled on his hips. He shuffled closer, hands hooked behind Roman’s calves. He lets his tongue slip out, licks along the line of Roman’s cock through his boxers. Roman moans, biting hard on his lower lip to try and keep quiet. One hand curls into a fist in front of his mouth, the other falling to rest on Finn’s head.

Finn practically soaks through Roman’s boxers, mouthing at the head of his cock through the fabric. Roman’s groaning, muffled by his teeth and fist, He’s trying his damndest to keep fucking quiet, to not alert others to their presence and what they’re doing. Logically, it’s so loud outside the bathrooms that no one could hear them unless they’re actively trying, but Roman’s brain isn’t firing on all cylinders.

Finally, Finn reaches up with one hand and drags Roman’s underwear down to meet his jeans. The fabric barely leaves his dick before it’s replaced by Finn’s mouth. His lips are soft, supple, and his mouth is  _ warm, wet, tight _ and whatever piece of Roman’s brain that was still working has officially crashed.

His nails dig into Finn’s scalp, fingers curling in his hair. Finn moans at that, sliding the head of Roman’s cock into his mouth. There’s a stud sitting flat against Finn’s tongue, and he runs it against Roman’s slit. The metal is cold compared to the heat of his mouth and the temperature difference is almost enough to make Roman’s knees buckle.

Finn takes his time, moans around Roman as he slides more and more of his shaft into his throat. Roman almost comes when the tip of his cock bumps the back of Finn’s throat. Finn swallows around him eagerly, curling his tongue and hollowing his cheeks. He’s a fucking pro at this, knows where to drag his tongue piercing, when to pull back, when to tease.

Finn places both of Roman’s hands in his hair and carefully pulls off his dick for a moment. Roman’s about to complain at the loss before Finn says, “Please fuck my mouth.” And really, who is Roman to deny him?

Roman snaps his hips forwards, and Finn lets out a choked moan. He opens his throat and lets himself be used. Roman can feel how eager Finn is to please and it sends him over the edge as much as the drag of Finn’s tongue piercing along his vein does.

Finn swallows every last drop, some dribbling free from his lips as he pulls off of Roman. He runs his thumb along his lower lip, collecting the extra cum along the pad of his finger. He sucks it into his mouth, making eye contact with Roman the whole time. His lips are raw and stretched and Roman can see the slightly uncomfortable the way his throat is working like it’s trying to readjust to being empty.

Roman drags Finn to his feet, crashes their lips together, licks his way into Finn’s mouth. He can taste himself on the smaller man’s lips but all it does is sends a shiver down Roman’s spine.

Finn slides his mouth up to Roman’s ear, takes his earlobe between sharp canines. “Can I fuck you?” He breathes, voice desperate and  _ wrecked _ . Roman can feel Finn’s hard cock pressed against his hip and a part of him  _ aches _ . 

“Fuck me. Please fuck me.” He pleads, voice fucked as if he’s the one who’s been sucking cock. He didn't know how empty he felt until being filled was  _ offered. _ Finn’s eyes go wide and his mouth falls slack before kissing Roman again, hard and with little technique but a hell of a lot of heat.

“You sound good when you’re begging.” Finn groans against Roman’s lips, fingers digging into the taller man’s hips. “I’d love to hear more of it.” He hooks his fingers through the belt loops of Roman's jeans and uses them to drag the taller man back. He presses Roman against the sink, making sure to pin him carefully.

He smooths a hand across the flat of Roman's back, presses his chest to the cold counter. The position means Roman's ass is out, presenting, almost.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” He hears the click of Finn's heels against the floor, and then silence. He feels hands pulling his underwear and jeans down to his knees and he shivers. He can't see Finn standing behind him in the mirror, can only see his own blissed-out face.

Suddenly, there are hands spreading his cheeks and he moans as a finger slips against the furled muscle of Roman's hole. The finger is replaced by something warm and wet and Roman realizes with a  _ holy shit _ that the scrape across his skin is Finn's beard.

_ Finn’s eating him out. _

Roman's thighs are shaking within no time. Finn's not doing anything more than running the flat of his tongue across Roman's entrance, tracing lazy shapes with the tip of his tongue. His piercing is driving Roman wild, getting caught on his rim with every pass. His hands are clenched into fists, one against the counter, the other in his own hair. He's moaning freely now, can't find the wherewithal to care about keeping quiet.

Finn's moaning, occasionally pressing hard bites and hickeys against Roman's cheeks. His fingers are digging into the globes of Roman's ass as he spreads him and it's more grounding than it should be.

Finn's tongue spears, slips inside. Roman's moan is closer to a sob, his eyes clenching shut as his fist beats against the counter. There are tears pricking his eyes in the best way, and he's so  _ fucking sensitive _ , every nerve ending in his body on fire. He's just come but his dick is still trying to get hard trapped between his hips and the counter.

Suddenly, Finn's tongue isn't the only thing inside him. There's a finger as well, using Finn's spit as lube as he tries to stretch Roman out. Roman's knees almost give out as the digit slides inside of him. He already feels so fucking full and Finn's barely gotten down to his bottom knuckle.

_ It's been too fucking long _ .

Finn spends several minutes working one finger in and out of Roman, whispering filthy little things into the room. Roman's so close to sobbing, can taste tears in his throat in the best way possible. His thighs tremble when Finn slowly adds another finger, stretching Roman out. He scissors them once they're both fully in, testing the limits of the muscle. Roman lets out a strangled cry that gets tangled in his throat as Finn crooks his fingers and gets  _ so fucking close _ to his prostate.

It feels like they stand there for hours, Finn methodically fingering Roman with three long fingers. The entire time, he presses gentle kisses and rough bites into the back of Roman's thighs, leaving bruises and beard-burn in their wake.

Finally,  _ finally, _ Finn slips his fingers free. He stands, and Roman can see just how debauched he looks. His beard is covered in saliva, his lips are red, and the black of his pupils has completely eclipsed the blue of his irises. There's a hard flush settled across his cheeks, a deep red that betrays his arousal.

Roman hears the crinkle of a condom wrapper, sees Finn do something swiftly. He hears the sound of slick flesh against latex, the rushed exhale of breath, and his cock twitches. After what feels like an eternity, he feels the blunt head of Finn's cock pressing against his hole. He moans, fights to keep his hips from fucking backwards.

Finn presses in  _ so fucking slowly _ , his hands spreading along the larger man's back in a soothing motion. Roman can see Finn in the mirror, can see him staring at where their flesh is meeting, can see the hunger in his eyes even through his reflection.

It feels like  _ years _ before Finn's hips press flush to Roman's ass but it's so goddamn worth it. Roman feels so full, feels split in two, feels like he's finally fucking  _ whole _ . It's been so long,  _ too long, _ since he's been filled like this and it  _ burns _ but in the best way.

Finn leans down, drops a litany of kisses between Roman's shoulder blades. The action is sweet, gentle, makes Roman's heart melt a little in his chest. It feels like every part of him is liquid, mush, not in its normal state.

Finn draws his hips back slowly and the drag of his cock is enough to make Roman shudder. He fucks into Roman at a glacial pace, his nails biting into Roman's hips. It doesn't take long before the burning subsides and Roman is ready for more, desperate for it.

Finn's going so slowly and it isn't enough, will never be enough, and Roman's speaking before he can process his words. When his brain finally reengages, he realizes he's begging, sentences barely coherent enough understand.

Finn keeps his slow, torturous pace despite this, despite the sweat bleeding down his forehead, despite the tremble of his fingers. Every part of him is betraying what he really wants.

Roman's damn near sobbing, frustrated, overstimulated tears leaking from his eyes. He's trying to rock his hips backwards but Finn has him pinned, the delicateness of his hands contradicting the strength of his grip. Roman keeps begging even though he looked at coherency three minutes ago and turned the other way. There are words leaving his mouth at an alarming rate, interspersed with curses and Finn's name said with a reverence Roman can't explain. 

After at least thirty minutes (probably closer to five), Finn leans down, presses his lips to Roman's neck and growls something, low and possessive. He draws up to his full height, makes eye contact with Roman in the mirror, and snaps his hips forwards.

The movement punches a moan out of Roman, loud and unabashedly as Finn grins. Finn fucks into him at a brutal place, hips coming forwards with enough energy to force Roman's dick into the cold line of the counter. One hand stays planted on Roman's hips, the other coming to tangle in Roman’s hair. He tugs, quick, sharp, bending Roman's neck at an uncomfortable angle. Roman gasps at the pinpricks of pain, groans as Finn tugs his hair  _ hard _ , tilting his head up so he's looking up the line of Finn's neck.

Finn presses filthy kisses to Roman’s neck, sucking dark hickeys into the tender skin there. Roman groans, fucks his hips back, pushes himself onto Finn’s cock. The pierced head of the shorter man’s dick is pressed to Roman’s prostate with every thrust, so  _ fucking _ rough in the best way possible. He’s practically panting, can’t even find the energy to moan. Finn’s teeth are gritting against his pulse point and he knows he’s gonna have the darkest bruises. His thighs are trembling and he’s not supporting his own weight, but he can’t bring himself to care because he feels so  _ fucking full _ .

Finn bites his earlobe, stills his hips against Roman’s ass. Roman can feel him come, feels him shudder, hears ragged breathing against his ear. Roman shudders, his cock twitching weakly. Finn stays there for a moment, still pinning Roman to the counter. His front is pressed against Roman’s back and Roman wants to kiss Finn so much he feels it in his bones.

“Are you okay?” Finn asks gently as he pulls out. Roman merely groans, his ass clenches at the sudden emptiness. After a moment, he manages to stand upright and turns, pulling his jeans up his hips. Finn’s tossing his tied condom into the trash, his jeans still peeled down his thighs. Roman notes through his post-orgasm haze that Finn has a wonderful ass and a gorgeous dick. His mouth waters a little.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Roman manages, swallowing thickly as he watches Finn fix his pants. He catches his breath as Finn splashes his face and rebuttons his shirt. As Finn goes to leave, he presses a kiss to Roman’s collarbone, scrapes his teeth across the bone, and reaches around to grab Roman’s ass.

“Thanks for the fuck, love.” Finn breathes, flashes a grin, and then he’s gone. Roman waits for a moment, still trying to wrap his head around what just happened. After a few minutes, he leaves the restroom and reenters the rest of the club. It’s loud and packed and he’s still a little uncomfortable but for some reason, he doesn’t mind as much.

He finds Dean by the bar, chatting up some prick in a crisp suit and douchey sunglasses. Dean gives Roman a grin and flicks the hickey blooming on his neck. The older man shoves his friend and busies himself with the drink the blonde offers him.

That night, he finds a slip of paper in his back pocket with a phone number and a,  _ “Would love to do that again. Thanks, love- Finn” _ scribbled across it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tonyknees on Tumblr! Come bug me!


End file.
